


NOT worried about him

by donttouchtheneednoggle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Pre-Season/Series 04, elyan is a grumpy cat but secretly really soft, gwaine is a gigantic puppy, like early on, not that gwaine ever really stops being one, when they're still emotionally stunted idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donttouchtheneednoggle/pseuds/donttouchtheneednoggle
Summary: 'He had been having a nice dream. He wanted to go back to that dream. He was pretty sure it had had Percival in it. It had been nice.And best of all, it was Gwaine-free.Unlike reality.'Elyan is not a morning person. Guess who is.
Relationships: Elyan & Gwaine (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 40
Collections: favorite Merlin fics (Luciferskitten_Arthursprincess)





	NOT worried about him

“Wakey wakey Elyan!”

As the horrendous noise assailed him Elyan groaned and covered his head with his arms, burrowing deeper into his cocoon of blankets.

“Elyan!”

He could hear rustling, and suddenly viciously bright sunlight pierced through his eyelids as the curtains were flung wide.

He let out an enraged yell and buried his head in his pillow.

He had been having a nice dream. He wanted to go back to that dream. He was pretty sure it had had Percival in it. It had been nice.

And best of all, it was Gwaine-free.

Unlike reality.

“Gwaine, piss off if you know what’s good for you.”

“Aw, don’t be like that Ellie! Get up, we’re gonna have _fun_.”

Elyan fumbled under his bed for his sword. If he threw it at Gwaine with his eyes closed he couldn’t _technically_ be held responsible for any grievous injury, could he?

A weight dropped onto his bed. Elyan lashed out blindly with his fist and was rewarded with an offended yelp.

“Gwaine, it’s my day off.”

“Mine too!”

“Then what the hell are you doing up?”

“I was _bored._ I’ve been scoping out the kitchen. Cook just made pies!”

“Big deal.”

“We could nick them!”

“Stop _sitting_ on me!”

“Come on, they’re apple!”

“You have a serious problem Gwaine.”

“C’mon, Ellie,” he wheedled.

Elyan glared daggers into his pillow. As if he thought that _stupid_ nickname would get him anywhere.

“Go ask Percival.”

“He’s away, hence why he’s not in your bed.”

“Shut up. Merlin then, he’s your favourite person isn’t he?”

“He’s gone too, remember?”

Elyan did remember. Bloody Nemeth and their bloody diplomacy.

“Fine. Go by yourself,” he grumbled.

There was a silence. Then, quieter:

“It’s Midsummer’s Day.”

Elyan paused, then groaned and rolled over. Silently cursing shared traumas and that stupid cave and that boredom-prompted heart-to-heart that had led to him being one of only two people in Camelot who knew Gwaine’s deepest secret.

He squinted up at him through the crack in his arms. “Your father?”

Gwaine nodded, eyes big and innocent and oddly reminiscent of Merlin.

_Manipulative little-_

But Elyan couldn’t get properly mad at him. Gwaine might act like everything was a joke but Elyan knew what lay beneath the surface.

He heaved an enormous, long suffering sigh. This was only because of the chaos the hooligan might cause unattended. He was _not_ worried about him.

_“Fiiine.”_

…..

Sitting at the top of one of the hills surrounding Camelot, munching on a stolen apple pie, warm sunshine bathing him, Elyan had to admit that this was one of Gwaine’s better ideas.

(Well he didn’t _have_ to. In fact he never would. But you know what he meant.)

Not that that was saying much. This was the man who routinely returned from patrol covered in bee stings.

Said man had gone quiet once they had charged away from the kitchens, cackling gleefully. (Or Gwaine had been. Elyan refused to admit he was too.) Typical.

He finally broke the silence.

“How many years?”

“Twenty two.”

Elyan let out a low whistle. That was a long time to be dead. He side eyed him. “You ok?”

Gwaine shrugged. “Not like I ever knew him.”

“I thought that was the whole tragedy of the thing.”

Gwaine snorted appreciatively. “Right.” He was silent for a moment. “It sucks, not knowing him. But at the same time-“

“What?” Elyan asked curiously.

Gwaine gave a hollow smile. “This way it’s not like he can disappoint me.”

“You optimist.” He looked cautiously at Gwaine. “Do you ever miss home?”

Gwaine lifted one shoulder. “It was pretty. Less forests, loads of fields and meadows.” He stuck his chin out determinedly. “But it’s not home.”

“You’d never go back? Don’t you miss-“

“-Enough about me.” Gwaine cut him off, forcing a cheerful smile.

_“Gwaine.”_

“What! It’s not like you ever talk about _your_ father.”

Elyan shrugged. “Not much to tell.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You knew yours.” Gwaine turned deliberately towards him, chin resting on his drawn up knees. Those big eyes were back. Elyan sighed heavily.

“He was funny,” he began, a smile tugging at his mouth. “So funny. He told us all sorts of stories. He made the best swords in the kingdom. And he was kind. My mother too. They were just- kind people. Must be where Gwen gets it from.”

“And you,” Gwaine said, nudging him with his foot.

Elyan kicked him back distractedly, smiling grimly. “Nah. I was always… too focused on myself, on what I wanted, to be there for the people around me.”

“You came out here, didn’t you?” he objected, raising his eyebrows and gesturing around him.

Elyan levelled his gaze at him. “Gwaine, I left. I left and even when I heard he’d died I still didn’t come back.”

“But you did,” said Gwaine, infuriatingly stubborn as ever. “You’re here, now. You can be there for Gwen. That’s not nothing. Have you talked to her?”

Elyan smiled a little. “Some. It’s... difficult, but I think it’s getting easier.” He suddenly let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“You, Oh Great Master Of Deflection, advising talking about it like you didn’t just completely flip the conversation!”

Gwaine grinned, unashamed as ever. “Just one of my many talents. It’ll be all right though, with you and Gwen. You’ll work it out.”

Elyan bit his lip. “Still feels like too little too late.”

Gwaine shrugged. “The past is done. No point dwelling on it.” He gazed into the distance, dwelling.

After a moment he reached out and ruffled his hair while Elyan swatted at him. “Anyway. I’m gonna go hit stuff. Thanks for coming.” He eyed him wickedly. “Knew you’d enjoy it.”

“Did not,” he shot back on instinct. He was _not_ grinning.

But as Gwaine made to get up he caught his arm. “Don’t go to the tavern tonight, ok?”

Gwaine scowled. “It’s my day off, how could I not go to the tavern?”

Elyan sighed. “Fine, we’ll go thrash some drunkards at dice. But don’t start drinking, all right?”

Gwaine frowned for a moment, then his face split into a ridiculously happy grin. “You’re worried about me.”

Elyan glared. “No, I just know you and how spectacularly bad you are at dealing with things.”

“You’re worried about me.”

“I’m the one who’d have to drag your drunk ass home!”

“You’re worried about me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re worried about me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated :)
> 
> Come hang out on [tumblr](https://donttouchtheneednoggle.tumblr.com/)!


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